The Greenest Isle

  The Greenest Isle

  Colors, Volume 2

  Brigham Vaughn

  Published by Brigham Vaughn, 2019.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  THE GREENEST ISLE

  First edition. June 10, 2019.

  Copyright © 2019 Brigham Vaughn.

  Written by Brigham Vaughn.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Epilogue

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  Further Reading: A Brighter Palette

  Chapter One

  March

  “Dishes are all sorted, so.”

  Annie looked up from her laptop to see her girlfriend Siobhán standing in the doorway of their combined office and studio space. She smiled at Siobhán, but once the words registered, she felt an all too familiar wave of guilt wash over her. “Thanks. I feel like I haven’t done much around here lately though. I can’t believe the way the blog’s taken off.”

  “That’s a good thing,” Siobhán said with a smile. “The fact that you’ve had to hire a second person to keep up with demand is a sign of your success.”

  “Jordan has been a huge help,” Annie agreed. Hiring an assistant had been Siobhán’s suggestion when it became clear that the workload was more than Annie could manage alone. Employing Jordan Scott—a local woman with a passion for blogging and all things Boston—turned out to be the best decision Annie had ever made. Her work had helped the blog traffic and ad revenue grow faster, and Annie was astonished to find that in the year and a half the blog had been up and running, it was an unequivocal, resounding success.

  But even with Jordan on board, Annie still worked long hours, and she knew she hadn’t been pulling her weight around their place. Siobhán had taken over far more than half of the day-to-day running of their lives, and it left Annie feeling guilty.

  “I don’t mind. Besides, what am I going to do? Stare at my canvas all day?”

  The wistful note in Siobhán’s voice made Annie’s chest ache. She pushed her chair back from the desk and held out her arms. “Come here.”

  Siobhán settled on her lap and pressed her forehead to Annie’s. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to whine about it all the time.”

  “I know.” Annie stroked Siobhán’s thick, dark hair. “But I also know how frustrating it must be.”

  Siobhán was a talented painter who had always been prolific and inspired. She’d called Annie her muse when they’d begun dating, but when Siobhán’s ex-girlfriend Laura had reappeared in her life, Siobhán’s inspiration had taken a serious hit. Annie suspected it had a lot to do with her discovery that Siobhán had also referred to Laura as her muse. It hadn’t been a pleasant realization for Annie, and she knew Siobhán felt guilty about it. Since then, they’d repaired their relationship and were stronger than ever in that regard, but Siobhán’s well of creativity had dried up.

  Siobhán still painted, of course, but the pictures seemed flat and uninspired. A dull echo of the vibrant work she’d done before. And Annie had no idea how to help.

  Her blog gave them plenty of income to live off, but it had shifted the dynamic of their relationship now that Annie worked more than full-time and Siobhán was at loose ends with her own career. Siobhán’s assistance around the apartment had been helpful, but Annie knew they both wanted a better balance.

  Annie shifted, seeking Siobhán’s lips with her own. After a brief hesitation, Siobhán kissed her back. Annie relaxed, sinking into the pleasure of her lover’s mouth. She ran a hand across Siobhán’s chest, cupping her breast and teasing her nipple through her clothes. Siobhán let out a breathy moan in response.

  “Come to bed with me, gorgeous?” Annie murmured against her mouth. Siobhán pulled back, a small frown marring her face before it smoothed out. She stood and held out a hand to Annie, but as Annie followed her into their bedroom, she felt a flicker of concern. And even after Siobhán fingered and licked Annie to a thigh-shaking orgasm, Annie felt a pang of disappointment.

  She loved Siobhán more than anything in the world. She truly did. But something was missing from their relationship as much as it was missing from Siobhán’s paintings.

  There was still so much love between them it made Annie dizzy sometimes. She loved Siobhán through thick and thin and knew Siobhán felt the same about her. Their sex life was still satisfying, but Siobhán’s bright spark of passion was gone, and she almost never initiated anything sexual between them anymore.

  Lesbian bed death was a long-running joke in the LGBT community, but somehow, Annie didn’t believe that had anything to do with this particular situation. Unlike other relationships Annie’d had in the past, she didn’t think it was simply because they’d settled into a more comfortable part of their lives and the flush of a new relationship had faded. This went deeper. Siobhán’s lack of drive to paint had simply bled into everything else. Annie had tried to talk about it with Siobhán with little success. Siobhán had brushed it off as being tired or focused on something else at the time, and Annie had been afraid to push too hard for fear of making it worse.

  She knew Siobhán was struggling, and she wanted to help but she wasn’t sure how. And until Siobhán’s passion for her art returned, Annie was quite sure that passion was going to remain missing from their relationship as well.

  And she had no idea how to help Siobhán get either back.

  ***

  “Annie! Annie!” A hard shake brought her awake, and Siobhán’s panicked tone made Annie bolt upright. She blinked, trying to focus through the haze of a deep sleep.

  “What’s going on?” she asked thickly. Siobhán stood beside the bed. Her dark hair was wild and tangled, and her face was white and etched with worry.

  “It’s me da, Annie.” Siobhán’s voice sounded strained and pinched. “He’s had a heart attack. I need to go home.”

  Annie rubbed a hand across her face as Siobhán turned away. “What? Is he all right?”

  “I just told you he had a bleedin’ heart attack! Of course he’s not all right!” Siobhán flung open the closet doors and pulled out a large, heavy suitcase. She dropped it onto the bed beside Annie.

  “I mean ...” Annie wasn’t sure how to delicately ask if he was alive. Siobhán wasn’t making that terribly clear. “How serious is it?”

  “He wasn’t feeling well, so he went to the health centre in Bray. His neighbor said they sent him to the hospital in Dublin straightaway.” Siobhán yanked open a drawer and pulled clothing out. A scarlet bra tumbled to the floor, followed by a balled up pair of socks. “It’s serious. He’ll be in hospital for a while.”

  “Jesus. I’m sorry, Siobhán.” Annie’s brain still wasn’t fully awake, but she threw back the covers and stood, wanting to do something to help.

  Siobhán’s hands were shaking as she yanked open another drawer and stuffed things haphazardly into the suitcase. Her eyes were red-rimmed and watery, and Annie knew she was barely holding on by a thread. Annie approached cautiously and placed a hand to still Siobhán’s movements. “I mean
it, Siobhán. I’m sorry to hear about your father. What are you doing right now though?”

  Siobhán looked over at her, a frown marring her forehead. “I’m going home, Annie. To Ireland.”

  Chapter Two

  Annie shifted, trying to get comfortable. Jesus, seats on planes are small these days. It had seemed so much roomier on her flight to Dublin the first time. College had been a long while ago, but she had only gained maybe ten or fifteen pounds since then, so she didn’t think her ass being bigger was the problem.

  She glanced over at Siobhán. She was asleep at the moment, curled up with her head against the bulkhead. The adrenaline had finally worn off, and thanks to the drinks Annie had encouraged her to have at the gate and on the plane, she’d finally passed out. They were somewhere over the Atlantic now. With hours to go before they reached Dublin.

  After Siobhán’s startling announcement that she was going home, Annie had pulled her into a hug. Siobhán had broken down in tears, and once her hiccupping sobs had quieted, Annie had convinced her to let Annie come up with an organized plan for getting them both there instead of just bolting for the airport and hoping for the best. Since Annie had no idea how long they’d be there, one-way tickets had been the best choice. The prices for two last-minute direct flights from Boston to Dublin had been eye watering, but hopefully, they could do a little better with the return flight. They would arrive the next morning, Dublin time.

  It had been difficult to get Siobhán to relax while they waited, but Annie had taken charge and organized things. She’d arranged to have a neighbor pick up the mail and water the plants until further notice. And she’d packed for them both. As Annie slipped her laptop into her carry-on bag, she’d felt a surge of gratitude for having the kind of job that allowed her to take off at a moment’s notice. And that she’d kept her passport up to date, and she didn’t need a visa to enter. It would have been agony staying home in Boston while Siobhán went alone.

  Annie would never admit it aloud, but a small part of her was thrilled they were going. Not under these circumstances, of course, but she’d loved Ireland the last time she was there, and she was excited about visiting again.

  They had talked about traveling to Ireland sometime for a vacation, but this wasn’t how they’d planned to do it at all. And Annie wasn’t at all sure about meeting Siobhán’s father. Siobhán’s relationship with him was a complicated one, to say the least. They’d been distant for years, nearly estranged, in fact. But clearly, there was still a lot of love there as well, if Siobhán was willing to drop everything to go to him. Of course, with her mother gone, apart from a few distant aunts and cousins, Siobhán had no other family.

  Annie had no idea what to expect when they arrived in Dublin. All she could do was hope for the best. And hope that she was strong enough to give Siobhán the support she needed.

  Because if there was one thing Annie was sure of, Siobhán would need her to lean on.

  Siobhán stirred in her sleep and shifted so her head rested against Annie’s shoulder. Carefully, Annie tucked the blanket more closely around her, then kissed the top of her head. A flight attendant walking by gathering trash smiled warmly at them. Annie smiled back and closed her eyes.

  She might as well try to get some sleep too. If she had to face the unknown, she wanted to do it feeling well rested.

  ***

  Dublin Airport seemed tiny compared to Logan International.

  Because of Siobhán’s dual citizenship, they went through separate lines at customs. Though Annie had braced herself for the worst, the custom’s official didn’t blink when Annie explained she was there because her partner’s father was ill and that said partner was a woman. After a few more brief questions, he reminded her that US Citizens were allowed to stay in Ireland for 90 days without a visa but that anything beyond that would require her to apply for a long stay D visa. Annie nodded and replied that she didn’t think they’d be there anywhere near that length of time but that she’d keep it in mind. After that, the custom’s official waved her through, and Annie found Siobhán was waiting on the other side for her, exhausted but beautiful as always.

  For the flight, she’d worn black leggings, a white top, and a soft heathered-gray waterfall cardigan over top. With her tall, black leather boots and brightly colored jewelry, she somehow looked effortlessly sophisticated even after an overnight intercontinental flight. But the dark purple smudges under her eyes and the lines around her mouth told the truth. Siobhán was struggling. Annie reached out and squeezed her shoulder in reassurance.

  Siobhán gave her a wan smile. “C’mon, let’s get our luggage and be on with it.”

  Annie followed her to the baggage claim area. Siobhán stared blankly at the conveyor belt as it whirled the bags around, and when Siobhán’s bright red bag came into view, Annie was the one who grabbed it. She finally located her own, much more boring black one and snagged that too. Since neither of them were sure exactly how long they’d be staying in Ireland, they’d packed as close to the maximum weight allowed that they could get.

  “Siobhán, what’s the plan now? Are we renting a car while we’re here?” Annie asked after she’d retrieved all their luggage. That was the one part of the trip she’d failed to think about.

  Siobhán shook her head. “Jaysus, no. The motorways around Dublin are nightmare enough when I’m wide awake. I’ve been gone too long to think about driving them when I’m in this state. I’ve asked the friend we’re staying with to pick us up. Sorcha should be waiting for us outside. I texted her when we landed.”

  Sorcha Kennedy turned out to be a pretty blonde with a willowy build, cornflower blue eyes, and a sweet smile. She squealed when she saw Siobhán. “Oh, I’ve missed you, lady.”

  Siobhán’s answering smile looked tired but genuine. “I’ve missed you too.” She leaned in for a hug, then kissed Sorcha’s cheek. When she stepped back, she reached out for Annie and pulled her closer.

  “Sorcha, this is my girlfriend Annie Slocum.”

  Sorcha’s eyes sparkled as she leaned in to pull Annie into a hug as well. “It’s lovely to meet you. Siobhán hasn’t shut up about you since you met.”

  “It’s lovely to meet you too,” Annie said, patting Sorcha’s back a little awkwardly. She felt at a distinct disadvantage here, and she was surprised that Siobhán hadn’t told her more about Sorcha. She knew of her, of course. Sorcha was a long-time friend of Siobhán’s. They’d know each other since they were children, and Siobhán had flown back home for her wedding more than ten years ago. It was the last time she’d been to Ireland, in fact. But that was all Annie knew, which seemed a little odd now that she thought about it.

  Annie stifled a yawn as she pulled away, and Sorcha gave her a sympathetic smile. “You both must be completely knackered. Let’s get you to my place, and you can have a shower to freshen up, a bite to eat, and some tea in you before you’re off to see your da.”

  Siobhán frowned. “That would be nice, but I’d just as soon see him first, if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course.” Sorcha reached out and rested a hand on Siobhán’s arm. “Whatever you’d prefer. Which hospital?”

  Conversation flowed past Annie without really sinking in as she willingly took the back seat so Sorcha and Siobhán could catch up. Annie tried not to doze—she wanted to acclimate to Dublin time so the jet lag would fade quickly—but her eyes felt heavy, and she struggled to keep them open.

  “Tell me more about your place,” Siobhán said.

  “It’s in Dún Laoghaire.”

  Dun-Leary, Annie thought, rolling the word around in her head as she remembered the disconnect she’d felt between the way Irish words looked to her American brain and the way they were pronounced.

  Annie had gone to Dún Laoghaire when she was in college with some friends. It was south of Dublin—situated on Dublin Bay—and considered a suburb of the city.

  “That’s a pretty area,” Siobhán said.

  “It is. I moved there a
fter my divorce and fell in love with it. Of course, rent in Dún Laoghaire skyrocketed in 2012 and 2013. I should have moved to the city centre then, but prices rose there too before I could even think about it. Now, everywhere within commuting distance is terribly expensive. You know what Dublin’s housing situation is like.”

  Siobhán chuckled. “A complete nightmare?”

  “Well, it’s more of a nightmare than ever. There’s a massive shortage of housing, and of course, all of it’s absurdly expensive. If you think it was bad ten years ago, you should see it now. I lucked into this place, frankly.”

  “How so?”

  “I’m subletting from a woman working abroad. It’s a two-bedroom flat, and she had another subletter lined up as well, but it fell through when their payment was insufficient. Thankfully, the woman working abroad is responsible for finding a replacement and on the hook with the building landlord for the difference in rent. My lease is only for my portion of the rent, and I’ve no complaints about living alone there until she finds someone else. The timing worked out well for your stay, so I won’t complain.”

  “How’d you find a situation like that anyway? Your ma?”

  “Yes.”

  “She’s in real estate,” Siobhán threw over her shoulder at Annie.

  “Handy to know someone,” Annie said with a smile.

  “Tell me about it,” Sorcha said. “It’s impossible otherwise. You wouldn’t believe how many homeless there are right now, Siobhán. It’s criminal what they do to people.”

  “Boston is terrible too,” Siobhán said. “Frankly, it’s getting to be a nightmare everywhere, I think.”

  “You wouldn’t have to live in the city though, would you?” Sorcha asked her. “I mean, you can paint from anywhere.”

  Siobhán nodded. “I could. Although, I’d still have to get my paintings to the gallery.”

  “True. Still, it beats my commute. I’ve at least a quarter of an hour on the bus, then forty minutes minimum on the train morning and night.” Sorcha glanced at Annie in the rearview mirror. “You work from home as well, yes? Siobhán sent me a link to the travel blog you run, and I was very impressed.”